


The Cruellest Torture Of Them All

by MusicPlotter



Series: Whumptober 2019 [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Don't copy to another site, M/M, Mature for the torture, No.1 - Shaky Hands, The Cruciatus Curse, Torture, Whumptober, the major character death is temporary
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-01
Updated: 2019-10-01
Packaged: 2020-11-09 06:20:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20848904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MusicPlotter/pseuds/MusicPlotter
Summary: The Potter-Malfoy household is attacked and Harry loses the only people that could possibly give his life meaning.*This is for Whumptober and is based on the first prompt, shaky hands.*





	The Cruellest Torture Of Them All

**Author's Note:**

> This didn't go as well as I wanted it to but after rewriting it over and over I decided to stick with this one. 
> 
> Thank you for reading!

Hermione had once described a moment as three seconds. One, two, three - and then the moment is gone. Except sometimes, a moment can feel longer than those three seconds - a minute perhaps? Hours, days, years, all condensed into three, short, seconds.

Harry James Potter had lost a lot in his life - too much for someone as young as him, only 23 years old. As such, he absolutely refused to lose anything else, anyone else. So when the front door slammed open and Death Eaters started rushing through, seeking to avenge for their master’s death after all these years, the first thing he did was put Teddy in Draco’s arms and push them towards the Floo. As long as they were safe, Harry could fight these attackers.

He could hardly believe that these people had dared to interrupt his life - he had finally settled after all these years. Living with the man he loved, someone that for some reason managed to love him back, something that left Harry awestruck every morning when he woke up to see blond hair on his pillow, a strong arm curled around him as if protecting him. Then, at exactly 7 o’clock every morning, they would be bombarded with an energetic six-year-old throwing himself onto their bed and demanding a breakfast of his choice. Bright blue hair, as it always was in the early morning, would seem to glare at them and make them want to plead for just one more minute.

But he had grown to love those early mornings, as he had told Draco over and over the night when he had been drunk off his ass. No, he was proud of his life now, proud of the person he had become and he wasn’t ashamed to admit it.

That’s why the fact that these people had broken into his home and threatened his family angered him so much, as soon as Draco and Teddy were safe he wouldn’t hesitate to let out his rage.

There was a moment, as the love of his life threw Floo powder into the fire, stepping into the green fire - one. Then rapidly chanting ‘12 Grimmauld Place’ - two. Then in the last second, the one that seemed to last forever, as twin green curses flew towards his only family left, hitting them as their bodies were taken away. Safe from any more damage, far too little, far too late.

He couldn’t breathe. Everything around him disappeared but the fire, orange again, in front of him. Nothing else mattered. Draco. Teddy. They couldn’t be gone - Harry had sworn to protect them with his own life. Draco had promised him an eternity together, promised that he would never leave Harry, that he would never want to. And little Teddy, who had already lost his parents, he couldn’t have joined them. He couldn’t. He still had so much life left to live. He had never even seen Hogwarts before.

He vaguely recognised the feeling of being disarmed, his wand flying away from him. Even if he had been in a better state of mind, this wouldn’t have mattered, he had long since mastered wandless magic. A swipe of his hand and those monsters would be thrown into the wall. But as it stood, he was definitely not in a better state of mind. He was in mental agony as he sank to his knees, still unable to comprehend the reality of the situation.

There was no doubt that Harry had seen and been through a lot in his admittedly short life. Unfortunately, the sad truth was that he had been so sure that nothing else could phase him after all that had happened, that he had let his guard down - refused to believe that anything left that life could throw at him could possibly shake him.

In fact, he had once drunkenly confided to Hermione that even if Voldemort were to somehow come back again, Harry would simply accept it as a part of his life. After all, he had grown up with the threat of Voldemort looming over his shoulders - it would be nothing new. There was nothing worse than Voldemort, ergo, nothing could possibly shake him from his recently developed calm demeanour, right?

Oh, how wrong he was.

For now, as he looked down at his hands, strangely clean for what had just happened, there was an undeniable movement that he vaguely registered as shaking.

Even when he had faced his own death, had stood before his greatest enemy with no plan to defend himself, his hands had never shaken.

Even in the final duel, in the moment that counted, the one that would determine the whole world’s future, his hands had never shaken.

Even as he learnt of all the deaths that were on his hands, as he memorised every name of that list, even the supposedly ‘evil’ ones, the hands holding the parchment didn’t move a bit.

So what made it so different now? Why was now the moment that his body decided to betray him? Maybe because he no longer held any control? He had nothing left to do - there was nothing that could be done.

Everyone knew that there was no way to bring back someone from the killing curse - the very name itself implied permanence.

Around him, Death Eaters were laughing, cackling away as if the death of the two people he loved most in the world was the funniest thing they had ever seen. Then, as if they had planned it all out, which maybe they had, they all simultaneously chanted the cruciatus curse, all twelve of them having no trouble with the intent necessary for such a curse.

Immediately pain wracked through his body, forcing him further to the ground. He had experienced the curse before, but it seemed as though the pain built up with more than one person, making him feel what was described as the ‘worse pain imaginable’ multiplied by twelve.

It was nothing, however, simply a mere distraction from the pure agony he was already feeling inside of him. Sure as the pain tore through him, he twitched and flailed before his limbs locked, leaving him unable to even scream, but even then, he could do nothing to escape the devastating thoughts inside.

_If only you had noticed they were here sooner, they wouldn’t be dead._

_Maybe if you weren’t such a failure, you could have saved them._

_It should’ve been you, not them, why didn’t you just move in front of them._

The thoughts continued to tear through him without mercy, breaking apart every happy memory he’d ever made and replacing them with guilt and self-loathing.

Soon, though it seemed to last for far too long, the Death Eaters decided that the physical torture simply wasn’t enough.

“Come on Potter, you killed the Dark Lord, surely you can live through a little torture. Unless of course, you wanted us to cast a different spell on you - perhaps one a little more … creative?”

They released him from the spells, but as he lay there, twitching, the leader of the twelve stepped forward and placed his wand at Harry’s temple. He cast a spell that Harry would never have recognised, even if he had been paying attention.

Soon his mind was taken far away from the horror he had just witnessed, instead, he was in front of a mirror again. He was reaching up, searching for a hand on his shoulder that he couldn’t even feel, but he could see right in front of him. Messy black hair standing next to green eyes just like his, his parents, the first people to die for him - so close yet so far. Tears streamed down his face as he stared into the green eyes of his counterpart in the mirror, smug because he had his parents, because he hadn’t killed his parents, not like Harry had.

  
Then he was somewhere else again and a _thump_ was resounding through his head, over and over again - the green light from the eyes before now expanding and exploding as it shot towards the boy he had come to call a friend. Someone else, dead because of him. He had told Cedric to grab the cup with him, told him to walk to his death - why was it that he got to live?

It seemed like an eternity before he was transported somewhere else yet again - a circular chamber this time. At first he couldn’t place the feelings of confusion and hopelessness but as he registered the sight in front of him he fell to his knees in horror - _no more, please, no more, I can’t take any more_ \- because now his godfather was in front of him, falling through the veil and not reappearing on the other side. _Why wasn’t he reappearing on the other side? Where have you gone, Sirius?_ Maybe Sirius had only seen Harry as James, had only seen the ghost of his best friend but that didn’t matter to Harry, love was so hard to come by and so rare in his life that he would take it in any form. But now even that distorted love was gone, gone forever because he had fallen for a trap and -

He was somewhere else. He could barely breathe through his tears, dreading what would come next. At first, he thought his vision had been taken as well, but he soon realised he was simply in the pitch-black darkness, maybe he was dead? No, he could feel his hands wrapped around metal bars, gripping them so tightly he thought they would snap. Mouth widening in horror as he realised where he was, what was happening. His brain had caught up with his ears but he soon heard the broken screams of one of his best friends, yet another person that he had failed. Weeks after the final battle he had seen the scar across Hermione’s arm, seen how it had branded her, despite her best efforts to hide it from him. Screams continued to haunt him as he struggled against the bars holding him back from saving her, even though he knew that there was nothing he could do - nothing that he had done before.

Light filled his vision but he could still hear his best friend being tortured, still hear the sound of his failure playing on repeat in his mind. Familiarity raced through him and he could barely believe that he was finally home, except he wasn’t, not really. He was standing up, something that would normally not mean anything particularly strange, but after all he witnessed, after all that had just happened, there was no way that he would be able to stand on his own two feet.

_No. No. NO._

_I won’t. I can’t. I don’t want to see this._

_NO. NO. NO._

But he couldn’t close his eyes. Couldn’t turn away. Couldn’t stop looking as the two people he loved most in the world stepped into the fire and got hit with a deadly green light.

And then it was happening again. And again. And again.

He was still standing up. Why was he still standing up? He screamed but nothing came out, not letting him release a single bit of emotion.

Just as he was watching his family step into the fireplace for what seemed like the millionth time, he was suddenly on the floor, curled up, hands shaking in front of his face, unsuccessfully trying to protect himself from any more attacks.

There was so much noise around him, maybe the Death Eaters were laughing at him? But no, those were red robes fleeting around the edges of his vision, not black robes - the Aurors were here? Well, they were too late. Draco and Teddy were - they were -

He threw up next to his head, not caring to move away from it and about to lie back down when a gentle hand caught his chin, pulling until he was on his knees. He tried to focus on the person in front of him, but without his glasses, he could only see a blur of blond hair and pale skin.

_Draco?_

But… surely that wasn’t possible. Draco was dead, he had seen him get hit with the spell, hadn’t he?

He didn’t have long to contemplate before the same gentle hands were slipping glasses on to his face, didn’t have long to think before he was staring into familiar grey eyes.

Harry couldn’t believe it, couldn’t believe that Draco was alive, he struggled futilely to get away, but his limbs were refusing to listen to him. He was still sobbing, distraught, still seeing his worst memories. Draco just rocked him, whispering reassurances in his ear, he needed Harry, needed him more than anything, needed him to believe that Draco was real. So he told him things that only Draco would know, the only thing he could think of that could possibly convince Harry.

“On our first date, you wore only Slytherin colours because you wanted to impress me.”

“You’re always worried that you’re too strict with Teddy, whilst I’m always worrying that I’m not strict enough. We balance each other out.”

“You only started cooking again after Andromeda died because you wanted to provide for Teddy and refused to let the Dursleys stop you.”

“I love you. I’ve loved you since you defended me against the witch on our second date, even if it was something I was used to.”

“Come back to us Harry. I love you. Teddy loves you. We love you.”

Harry collapsed, falling forward into Draco’s arms, choosing to believe that this was really him because if it wasn’t? If it wasn’t then he would be broken, he would have nothing left to live for, nothing left to keep him alive. He gripped as hard as he could onto Draco’s robes, which wasn’t all that hard, but Draco gathered him into his arms anyway, protecting him now from anything else that could dare to even think of hurting his lover.

“Dra-” He coughed, unable to get out the full word, but his partner understood.

“It’s okay, Harry, I’m here. I’m here.” Cold hands were stroking his hair now, his voice shaking in relief, he had been terrified that Harry would have been tortured into insanity.

“You’re dead!” He coughed again, desperate to understand, what if this really was Draco, what if this was really real? “I saw you die!”

“No Harry, we got away in time, we Flooed out before the curse could hit us. It’s okay, I’m okay, Teddy’s okay, you’re okay.” Draco repeated it like a mantra, if only to get the words to stick into Harry’s head.

They might have sat there for only a moment, but it was a moment that seemed to last for eternity. Eventually, Harry stopped sobbing as hard, though tears were still slipping down his face, he raised his head in realisation, a need filling him and latching onto his brain, refusing to let go until it was fulfilled.

“Teddy? Teddy’s okay? You said that Teddy’s okay? I need to see him, please, take me to him.” He would have begged, yet he had no need. For even as broken and crumpled as Harry might have seemed, Draco knew he would be no better than his torturers if he refused Harry in this moment, knew that Harry might hate him for the rest of their lives.

“Of course. He’s with Weasley at Grimmauld.” Draco stood first, not letting go of Harry, knowing that he needed the contact right now, that they both did. He helped Harry up, supporting most of his weight whilst Harry tried to find his feet. It didn’t take long, determination running through him, seeing Teddy as soon as possible was all that mattered now.

Draco guided him to the Floo. Despite how much Harry detested the thought of going through the Floo right now, he knew that it was the fastest option and braved through it as he stepped in with Draco, letting Draco say their destination. _12 Grimmauld Place._

Then they were there. Harry’s breath stopped as he stumbled out of the fire to see Ron holding back Teddy - _Merlin, Teddy, he’s alive, he’s alive_ \- from rushing forward to Harry. He absently noticed that Teddy had changed his appearance to match his own and now curly black hair had escaped from Ron’s hold and was running towards him as fast as he could. Harry fell to his knees to catch him, Draco’s hand still resting on his shoulder, grounding him.

Harry’s hands were still shaking as he pulled Teddy closer, Teddy’s head resting in the crook of his neck. Draco fell down next to them, hugging them both. All three of them were crying, so relieved that they had each other, so relieved that they were all okay.

Harry knew then, that as long as these two people, these two precious beings that were somehow apart of his life, as long as Draco and Teddy were with him, he would be the luckiest person alive.

Harry James Potter had lost a lot in his life, but he had gained so much more.


End file.
